It's My Sex Life, Don't You Forget
by kandisi
Summary: Wherein Chase's rabid sex life with women is destroying his ability to work, House decides to destroy Chase's happiness by destroying his awesome sex life, and Chase has his revenge on House in the weirdest way possible thanks to Lucas... Mild H/Ch slash.


**Title: **It's My Sex Life, Don't You Forget  
**Characters/Pairings:** House, Chase, Foreman, Taub, Masters, Cuddy, Wilson, Lucas, Ali, House/Chase, House/Cuddy, implied Wilson/Sam, possible subtext elsewhere  
**Rating:** PG-13 / T  
**Summary: **Wherein Chase's rabid sex life with women is destroying his ability to work, House decides to destroy Chase's happiness by destroying his awesome sex life, and Chase has his revenge on House in the weirdest way possible following some advice from Lucas...  
**Warnings: **Crackfic, crazy antics, some language, House being House, and mild slash  
**Spoilers: **Up to 7x08, _Small Sacrifices  
_**Disclaimer:** I do not own _House, M.D._ in any way shape or form, and do not make any money off writing this; it was just for fun and to pass free time.

**A/N:** Uh... I don't know, this just came to me out of nowhere, and I wrote it all last night after too much coffee, so it's probably pretty ridiculous. Like always, I apologize if anything like this has been written in this fandom, because I haven't read much fic in a while, but this is one fandom I need to read me some fic in. ;P

As for this fic, I was just looking for an excuse to write something House/Chase'ish and weird.

Btw, the fic's title sort of comes from that song "It's My Life (Don't You Forget)"; I just added an extra word in there, lol.

Well, read on if you'd like. :)

**It's My Sex Life, Don't You Forget  
**0.0.0  
**.0.**

_**Scene I**__: Chase's Awesome Sex Life_

**.0.**

"Where's Chase?"

"I don't know."

"Me either."

"Don't look at me, since I was a guy last time I checked."

House smirked. "Yes, I figured that, Taub, but I really think you should check again just to make sure."

Taub began to rise from his seat, before House placed the tip of his cane on Taub's shoulder and instructed him to sit back down.

"You can check later," said House, "but right now, I want to know where Chase is."

Foreman rolled his eyes. This was getting old; the whole 'where is Chase' thing. "House, you know where he is."

"He's probably having a foursome as we speak," insisted Taub as he sighed longingly, "Yes, those were the days..."

"Bluffing again," muttered Foreman, while House nodded. He was in full agreement with Foreman on _that_ one.

"Well if Chase wants to date, what business is it of yours?" asked Masters.

House pulled up a chair, and sat down in his usual spot. "Okay. Let's put it this way. If Chase were an alcoholic, and he were functional, it wouldn't be as bad if he were a non-functional alcoholic. Same with say, compulsive gambling or even obsessive cleaning."

Everyone looked at House oddly, waiting for the punch line.

Thus, House continued. "So, take Chase's non-existent alcoholism and replace it with s-e-e-e-x, and the problem reveals itself. If he can't perform his job _and_ have sex, either his job, or the sex, has to go."

"I'll tell Chase it was nice working with him, in that case," replied Taub nonchalantly.

Then, out of the blue, none other than Dr. Robert Chase stormed into the discussion room.

"Sorry I'm late again, guys," said Chase in a perky voice. He appeared _extremely_ satisfied with himself, and _just_ as pleased with himself; in more ways than one.

House formed his classic sarcastic expression. "Ah, Dr. Chase at last. So good of you to join us all. Did you ever get that flat tire of yours fixed?"

Chase laughed. "What? Well, I didn't have a flat, but I sure had some 'fun' in my car, that's for sure... And I picked her up at the coffee shop on my way to work. Also, she _definitely_ wasn't 'flat', House."

"I really don't need to hear this," sighed Foreman.

"I thought the story was getting interesting," added Taub.

House nodded. "Oh yes, _do_ tell, Chase, as we are all _dying_ to know."

Chase smiled big. "She was a blond, about five foot nine, and she came on to _me_. Strangely enough, I'd just had myself quite the night last night, too, if you know what I mean... I don't know why I ever stopped going to those S&M clubs."

"_Stop_," Foreman said, sighing again. "Just stop right there."

House eyed Chase suspiciously. He was cooking up another dirty scheme of the sorts, or to put it more bluntly, a dirty theory of his which was _begging_ to be tested.

"Chase," said House, "would you mind paying a visit to our lovely Dean of Medicine to see if there are any juicy cases for us all on this wondrous morning?"

Chase arched a brow. "...What are you up to?"

House grumbled. "Just get the damn files, alright?"

Chase shrugged, but then, turned on his heel, and made way to head for Cuddy's office.

Once Chase was out of sight, Foreman said, "Uh, I agree with Chase. I didn't like the sound of that for some reason, House."

House pouted. "But nobody _woves_ me!" he musingly complained, before he began heading out of the room, too. Once House had left the others, they remained sitting, but did manage to exchange a set of varied glances ranging anywhere from pretty apathetic, to mildly interested, to somewhat concerned.

Of course, Master's was pretty apathetic, Taub's was mildly interested, and Foreman's was somewhat concerned.

0.0.0

_**Scene II**__: Casual Casualties_

**.0.**

On the way to Cuddy's office, Chase 'casually' bumped into one of the new nurses on the staff. She smiled at him, and after they'd had a conversation lasting for an _entire_ twelve seconds, Chase had scored a phone number.

Chase then headed forth into Cuddy's office; that same, stupid grin plastered on his face.

Cuddy was seated at her desk, and upon Chase's arrival, she promptly looked up.

"No," she said.

Chase's grin didn't fade. It merely transformed into a grin of confusion. "What?"

"I'm not having sex with you," stated Cuddy.

The Australian doctor shrugged. "Your loss."

Cuddy's mouth fell open. "_Excuse_ me?"

Chase walked his way to Cuddy's desk, and said, "Oh c'mon, I was just kidding. Anyway, House wanted me to see if you had any challenging case files on hand."

Cuddy's brow furrowed. "And... House had to send you to check with me on this?"

"What's so strange about that?"

Cuddy knew what was so strange about _that_, but she chose to say nothing for the time being.

Not about _that_, at least.

Cuddy merely pulled another routine sigh of hers, and removed several manila files from the top of her desk. She handed them to Chase, but when Chase grasped onto the files, he didn't pull them away from Cuddy.

Chase looked at Cuddy ever so casually, and ever so casually, asked, "Do you have ten dollars I can borrow?"

Cuddy, impulsively, wanted to frown and insult Chase in some form or fashion, but then, she noticed House trying to conceal his presence outside the blinds by hiding behind a plastic plant while holding a newspaper and sporting a pair of ridiculous sunglasses.

So instead, Cuddy smiled pleasantly at Chase, and said, "Sure, I think I have a ten on me."

...And as House stood outside and watched his girlfriend handing over an _entire_ ten dollar bill to his duckling, he knew he needed to talk to Wilson immediately.

Hell, next thing House knew, Cuddy might be lending Chase her car at this rate.

0.0.0

_**Scene III**__: So-So Advice_

**.0.**

Dr. James Wilson was seated comfortably in his office, overlooking the results of a pancreatic scan which had thankfully turned up clean for any signs of cancer. Just then, however, House barged into his office much like he would on any typical afternoon.

Wilson looked to House, before House ambled over to Wilson's couch, and flopped down without word.

Strangely, the silence lasted for well over a minute, and Wilson knew he either had to say something about what he knew House was thinking, or let House take over his office for another day.

Wilson sighed. "So..."

"So?" House asked.

Wilson made a funny hand gesture. "So...?"

"So..." replied House.

Wilson grumbled to himself. "_So_... Chase's active sex life bothering you that much?"

House sat up straight on the couch, slamming the rubber engulfed tip of his cane into the carpet floor.

"Chase is causing anarchy among the team," House stated, "and by anarchy I'm not speaking of the Grand Theft Auto variety. His ego has become bigger than mine, and _that's_ not acceptable."

"Hmm," Wilson replied, nodding his head a little, "and this has nothing to do with how you're not a big fan of other people's happiness?"

House looked at Wilson seriously. "Don't _ever_ say that line to me. I still haven't had an alcoholic drink in a bathtub for _far_ too long."

Wilson sighed. "House, why do you care about how much or how little Chase gets?"

"He's going to get someone killed. Or kill someone. Again. And he's drinking a lot."

"Mmm-hmm... and how is Chase going to bars from time to time any worse than eating Vicodin by the dozen?"

"I came here for an epiphany, not be spanked by your verbal paddle again," remarked House as another smirk escaped his lips. "Also... Chase is, gasp, checking out my woman."

Wilson nodded again. "Oh, now I see. House, you know as well as I do that Cuddy would _never_ sleep with Chase."

House formed a serious expression, and stared his friend straight in the eyes. "I heard this morning that Chase slept with Nurse Caldrige... you know, the one who used to be a stripper, and she told Dr. Idiot that Chase was at a strip club two nights ago getting a lap dance from a tranny."

"I see," replied Wilson, still appearing rather uninterested, "and which 'Dr. Idiot' might this be?"

House shrugged to an extreme degree. "Does it matter? Most of them are idiots."

Wilson closed the file on his desk, and took a sip of his rapidly cooling decaf. "If you're really _that_ bothered by Chase's escapades, why not take him to a bar and give him one of those philosophical talks about why women are evil, and you can even throw in one of those 'there's two kinds of people in the world' metaphors?"

Another silence set in, lasting for a good eighteen seconds this time around.

House stood up, and began walking away.

Wilson's eyes widened a little. "House. You _didn't_ take that advice seriously, did you?"

House looked back over his shoulder, saying, "Me? Never! Honestly, James, I thought you knew me better than that by now! Geez Louise."

With that said, House excited his friend's office.

Wilson knew there was going to be trouble _very_ soon.

0.0.0

_**Scene IV**__: Chase's Skeletal Structure_

**.0.**

House was searching for his team, all of which he found standing outside of exam room seventeen.

Foreman, Taub, and Masters were all standing in the hollow entrance, but House was unable to make out their expressions with nothing more than a view of their backs. He knew, however, that something had definitely caught their attention, and House needed to have his curiosity quenched. Immediately.

He strutted his way up to the trio, and pushed Taub aside so he could get a better view at whatever it was that had seized everyone's attention.

The expression which then graced House's facial features really wasn't one that could be accurately described by words.

"Oh, really? You think I look good today? You're looking pretty bloody hot yourself there, Leelee."

"What the hell...?" muttered Foreman.

Chase was in the exam room, surely enough. However, the problem wasn't really so much the fact that he was talking to himself so much as it was that he was talking to a human skeletal structure. It was fake, but still... Chase was talking to a plastic skeleton nonetheless.

Chase ran his fingertips down the side of the skull's... well, skull. "I think you're pretty hot, too."

Taub turned around. He needed to notify psyche, he figured. Foreman just wanted to bail, and Masters merely thought Chase was one sad case.

House entered the exam room, interrupting Chase's attempts at seducing said skeleton as he stated, "That certainly is one fine bag of bones." While Chase stood frozen, House walked up to said skeleton, glaring it in the eyes or lack thereof. "You told me we had something _really_ good going on, and now, you're _cheating_ on me with _him?_ How _could_ you!"

"I think this is officially one of the most insane things I have seen since I began my career here," stated Foreman.

Taub shrugged. "I still think it was the time Lucas wore those awful argyle socks while undercover as a coffee repairman, but yes, this does make the top one-hundred on the list."

"I don't know about you two, but I'm going to get in some clinic hours," said Masters, her voice sarcastic. Still, perhaps she actually was being serious. "If I'm not careful, I could become that skeleton soon. Not in the literal sense, but I'm sure everyone here is at least smart enough to catch what I meant by that."

"House..." Chased sighed. "It's not like I'm doing anything wrong."

House then looked to the doorway, and with his cane, waved everyone away so that he could have some one-on-one time with Chase.

When the others were gone, House looked at the younger doctor, and said, "I never said you were doing anything wrong. In fact, I'm highly impressed with you right now, and thought you might be able to give me a few 'tips'."

Chase's eyebrows narrowed. "You actually expect me to believe that?"

House nodded. "I'm being more than serious. We've never spent enough time together, and while I have a duty to Wilson to provide him with nightcaps and comforting talk due to his situation with ex-wife number one, I have realized that you and I have not spent nearly enough time together in the buddy sense."

Chase remained bored. "House, the last time you and I tried to actually hang-out alone together, you left me alone at a bowling alley. Still, rather that had happened or not, I wouldn't go anywhere with you, because you're evil and manipulative, and I don't want to end up tied up in the trunk of someone's car in the middle of nowhere."

House titled his head. "That actually happened to you before, too?"

Chase's eyes shifted. "...No, but my point is that I am _not_ hanging out with you. Not for now, at least. I've got a busy schedule, after all."

"Oh I know, with all that awesome sex you're scoring, I'm no longer the most interesting person you know," replied House, as he placed one of his hands on the skeleton's collarbone. "You'd rather spend all your time with people like our friend here. Just to let you know, though, this skeleton is actually a _man_."

"House," Chase whined, running a hand back through his hair. "Just tell me what you want so I can _stop_ listening to you for now?"

"Alrighty then," replied House, "I just thought you and I could hit up a bar tonight, and we can mingle with the ladies. I mean, _not_ me, of course, because I'm taken, but by watching _you_ in action, I thought I could get some tips on how to be a better man to my lovely Cuddy. I _really_ mean it."

"And... you really _are_ serious about this?"

"Oh _definitely_," said House with a reassuring smile.

Chase was a smart guy. He'd solved a lot of cases, borrowed a car, gotten away with murder, screwed the bored, socked House in the face, and won a huge wad of cash during House's interviews for new doctors with that clever little bet scam of his.

So of course, he knew how to respond to House's inquiry...

"Alright, I'll go, but _don't_ try anything funny."

"Definite 'funny'."

"Uh, being you."

"Oh. Cool, man. I'll just show up as someone else."

Chase sighed again. "Whatever."

House was smiling on the inside, as those invisible red horns of his appeared above his head.

He did know how to tweet, after all.

0.0.0

_**Scene V**__: Since When is Insanity Sane?_

**.0.**

At this point in time, Wilson was now seated in Lisa Cuddy's office.

"House is taking Chase to a bar," he confessed.

Cuddy frowned. "What?"

Wilson huffed. "Yes, I'm afraid so. But I know House, just like you know House. It might not end there. Chase will go to the bar. House will drink coffee while Chase drinks everclear, and then, next thing Chase knows, he'll be in a strip club, dancing on the stage with no pants on, before he finds himself in the Chinese restaurant next door trying to order a pizza before he is then arrested for public intoxication... _after_ he tries to walk home without his pants on while holding two sacks of honey walnut shrimp."

Cuddy just... sat there. "...Are you speaking from personal experience?"

"What do you think?"

Cuddy groaned; her head falling forwards. "If only Lucas and I were still speaking, I'd have him follow them."

Wilson shrugged. "I know exactly where he's going, so I can do that for you. I may not be a licensed P.I., but when it comes to busting House for crazy and ridiculous antics, I'm pretty good."

Cuddy leaned back in her rotating chair. "Ah. I see. So now that your relationship with Sam is strained and House doesn't seem to have time for you at the same time, you don't like the idea that he is making time for Chase, and this gives you an excuse to have an excuse to ruin House's night for a change."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "That's not it. Really. I just don't want Chase to wake up in the trunk of a car stranded in the middle of nowhere, or in the drunk tank. Like I said, I've had experience in these matters. House wants to screw with Chase's happiness because Chase's happiness is the _only_ happiness he knows to screw with right now, so he thinks that if he can give Chase a night of hell, that Chase will, well... stop having sex and no longer be happy."

Cuddy only had one response to this. "That's insane."

"Well so is House."

"Alright." Cuddy sighed once again. She couldn't argue with Wilson's previous statement. "Do whatever it is you plan to do, but if you are going to play P.I. on House again, let me know if he tries to imitate Chase in any way tonight. Chase is a valued doctor here, but I don't care if he makes an idiot of himself with a bunch of young girls. If House does, however, he is a dead man with an even deader career and a deader sex life than _that_."

Wilson gave another affirming nod. "If things get too out of hand, I'll intervene. Don't worry, I've got this."

_I hope..._ he then thought to himself.

0.0.0

_**Scene VI**__: Chase Scores, House Fouls_

**.0.**

Later that day, in the evening to be more precise, House was waiting for Chase at the bar he usually went to with Wilson on occasion.

The team had eventually found a case earlier in the day, though it hadn't been all that mind-boggling. Still, Chase's mind had been elsewhere during the duration of said case. Masters had nearly had to beat Chase off with a stick, and when Chase was supposed to be in the lab testing blood for anemic properties, he had instead been in the cafeteria entertaining a group of people at a table. Chase had been the only male in the group of people at the table. Later, when everyone had been looking at brain scans, Chase had been mysteriously absent again, but had eventually turned up... looking like a train wreck. Well, his clothes at least, but House supposed a quickie in the storage closet _was_ never good for one's clothes.

Then, when Chase had been in the locker room, Foreman had gotten a lovely view of the... types of images in Chase's locker. There were no longer pictures of Cameron within its confines, but now, posters and magazine clippings. Posters and magazine clippings of lesbians and female bondage masters, and even one of those dubbers who did voiceovers for hentai anime. Not that House knew _that_ much about that last one... Also the star from Backdoor Sluts IX, which House did admittedly know about.

And now, Chase was late getting to the bar. It probably had to do with that dry-cleaning Chase had said he had needed to take care of at the Chinese laundry mat. House, somehow, knew Chase's laundry wasn't the only thing _getting done_ there.

Chase was so happy now... it made House _sick_. But really, he did tell himself that screwing with Chase's sex life _was_ in Chase's best interest. The poor lil' guy was on the _rebound!_ And House needed to do the little lad a favor... He also continued to tell himself that his subconscious did not want to kill Chase for a second time.

House took a sip of the peppermint tea he had grown accustomed to partaking of ever since the vegan, and turned his head. Chase was standing in the doorway, dressed like a million dollars, but he couldn't seem to spot House; as blatant as his presence at the bar was.

Perhaps it was because when House had told Chase he would show up to the bar as 'someone else', he _hadn't_ been joking.

House waved his cane around in the air, gathering his colleague's attention.

Chase spotted House, appearing rather bemused as he approached his boss with notable trepidation. When he reached House, the first thing he did was ask, "Why are you dressed like a police officer?"

House looked down, admiring his uniform. "Oh, this? I don't know, it was just lying around the apartment."

"House..."

"Uh oh, I must be emo," replied House, "The way I dress makes it look like every day is Halloween!" he sang.

Chase smiled. "Well, I think I should be leaving, now."

Just then, however, a busty blond woman in a power suit approached Chase, falling all over him. Somewhat literally, since she had apparently had one or even four too many. However, House knew she was faking her intoxication. Damn. And that had always been _his_ trick. The nerve of some people.

Of course, Chase _had_ fallen for it.

"Hey sexy," said the pretty young woman, "What's a guy like you doing here all alone?"

It was funny how Chase's demeanor changed so rapidly.

He smiled, and said, "I've had a _long_ and _hard_ day at work, and I was a little lonely, so I thought I'd drop in for a bit."

"I'm Marcie, by the way," said the woman, casually flicking a hand back through her long, golden curls. "But, um, who is your... friend here?"

"House," he stated, extending a leather-gloved hand as he shook Marcie's hand in turn, "Short for House of Pain. _Not_ like the band. This hot Aussie here with me is my partner."

Marcie... took a step back, while Chase looked at House with an expression of horror.

House laughed, and corrected himself. "Not like _that_. We're both officers of the law. Chase here is the good cop, and _I'm_ the bad cop. He just doesn't have his uniform on because he left it at the cleaners after he was shot while wearing one of those bullet-proof vests."

Chase almost wanted to bail, but the words 'almost' and 'bail' were scratched from his thoughts when a few of Marcie's girlfriends trounced over in shoes ranging from stilettos to sexy work boots with laces.

Then, a tall redheaded woman ran her hand through Chase's blond hair. "Can I get you a drink, hon?"

"Well duh," said House, "This poor guy just got _dumped_... Can you imagine how Leonardo Dicarprio would feel?"

"Ahh, poor _baby_," said another woman. This one had short black hair, and a pair of black-framed glasses on. They appeared to be Prada, but House knew a real Rolex was hard to come by, too. In other words, it was just another bimbo pretending to be rich, or some wealthy divorce. Either way, House was going with the former.

Thus, House and Chase moved to a set of tables which had been moved together, so they could both sit with Marcie and her lady friends. House continued to switch up his drinks a little, from tea, to coffee, and finally tonic and lime. Hey, it had worked in the movie _21_ for awhile, after all. If everyone else was going to be drunk, the least House could do was keep up appearances.

Also, he made sure he bought Chase drink after drink, and within the next hour, Chase was in even sadder shape than he had been at the bachelor party in Wilson's apartment.

As a waitress approached Chase again – one whom had been hitting on him, of course – she asked him what he would like to drink _now_.

Chase's response? "I'd like a royal fuck."

House added, "Yeah, he'd like to be royally fucked, and I'll have one of those liquid marijuana's. I'd ask for some absinthe but I think it's still illegal in this jurisdiction, but I was planning on checking out Amsterdam this summer assuming the FEDS or Captain Cragen didn't need me for another job."

Everyone could only guess House was drunk, too.

Which, he wasn't.

And he even gave that green shot of his to Chase.

Finally, they left the bar, and House made sure he was the DD. Not the implants Chase was groping in the backseat, but the designated driver. They headed forth to a rave, where they didn't even have to wait in line to get in. After all, Chase's hotness was enough to allow House access on the spot as well, and the security guards were so caught up in the hot ladies all over Chase that they didn't even bother to inquire House about his dispatch number. Or unit number. Section number. Whatever it was called. House hadn't watched enough SVU lately.

Once inside the rave, House took a comfortable seat in a booth, and allowed himself the privilege of a single glass of wine as a reward for just how well the night was going. Chase was making a complete idiot of himself.

He was on the dance floor moving a lot like clay Gumby himself, but this was after he had made the snide remark about the threesome he had once had with two women who looked just like Lady Gaga and Beyonce; a line he had totally stolen from House. Funnily enough, the current song playing did happen to be 'Telephone', but House dealt.

He snapped a few more dozen pictures with his cellular phone, and sent them to everyone he knew, pulling a little twitter scheme while he was at it.

Still, the night was far from over.

To keep Chase up and going, House ordered him around ten Red Bulls and two Monster energy drinks so they could make it to the strip club in time for the gothic special.

Once there, House and Chase were seated at another booth, and while Chase did disappear into the VIP room for half an hour with a woman dressed like a vampire right out of _Queen of the Damned_ after they had arrived, House was at least able to get a good view of some of the dancers on stage, which were 'hot topics' to say the least. House withheld the urge to buy any lap dances, however, since he _still_ wasn't a single man, and he was doing this for Chase – not himself, or so he continued to tell himself.

When Chase exited the VIP room, he was missing his pants and had purple lipstick smudged all over his face, and a few moments later, he ended up on stage dancing to a very famous song by Nine Inch Nails, which had House dying from amusement in his own head as Chase got 'closer' to another stripper.

Eventually, House left, while Chase went next door for some Chinese food; _after_ House had insisted that Chase needed to eat something to help settle the alcohol. House abandoned Chase after that, but knowing the way the world worked for happy people, Chase would wake up in bed with a few pretty gals nonetheless. He'd have no memory of the sex, but still... a few pretty gals, right?

However... House was _not_ prepared for one thing...

...which was the fact that the _second_ he parted from Chase, his luck had turned _bad_, when a _real_ police officer asked for his badge number and the color of the day, and House was arrested for impersonating an officer of the law after he had said 'baby pink', which had _not_ been the color of the day.

But on the brighter side, Chase made it back home _just_ fine, with a few pretty ladies, and he even retained some memories of the hot sex.

Wilson had been forced to bail House out of jail again, since Cuddy was too angry to do so.

0.0.0

_**Scene VII**__: WTF._

**.0.**

The next morning, after House had gotten out of the drunk tank he had wrongly been placed in (he'd blown a .03, so what the hell?), he was in his apartment, pondering over the previous night. He had attempted to give Chase a hellish experience, and instead, the joke in itself had been on _House_.

And all those tweets of Chase House had sent out over the web had ended up on sites like sexyguysdotcom, and after hacking into Chase's profile at okcupid, House had found that Chase had received over one-hundred messages in less than 24 hours _and_ that he was a Deliberate Gentle Sex Master.

WTF.

While pondering the insane melodrama that was his life still more, House suddenly heard a knock on his door. House almost didn't want to answer it.

**A.** It would be Wilson, wanting to beat House with that verbal paddle of his.

**B.** It would be Cuddy, ready to tell him he had lost all groping privileges for a week. Maybe even ten days.

With a groan, House stood from the couch, headed for the door, and, without even checking the peephole, opened the front door.

The second House _had_ opened the door, he wanted to _slam_ it like a shot.

"Hey House," said none other than Robert Chase. He had that motherfucking grin on his face... _again_.

"What are _you_ doing here?" asked House, sounding annoyed.

"I just wanted to thank you for the amazing time last night," Chase replied, his voice cocky and _just_ as arrogant. "By the way, I'm not hungover at all, thanks to a Bloody Mary, some Tylenol 3, and a few benzodiazepines. Nice try though, House. Also, I wanted to thank you for snapping those images of me, and for updating my profiles on those dating sites you so cleverly managed to hack into. I've already got over ten dates lined up this week," he pronounced in that same snotty voice of his. "So, I will be having plenty of hot sex with hot women... all thanks to you."

House smiled. "You'll be having intercourse with my cane if you don't leave within the next five seconds, Chase."

House honestly didn't think things could get any worse. It was bad enough that Chase had flaunted the possible drug use in front of House, but then...

"Oh my god..." muttered House.

For there, in his doorway, was not only Chase, but now... _Ali...?_

_WTF._

Ali walked up to Chase, and took his arm. Oh right—she was over eighteen now, wasn't she?

"Oh hi Dr. House!" said Ali, "Thanks for making sure Chase and I met, he is like... oh my god, just _so_ freaking hot."

House turned around.

"Hey, where are you going?" Chase asked, dumb grin still in place.

"I keep a revolver under my bed," House replied, "so feel free to shut the door on your way out so the bullets don't hit you."

"Alright, g'day, House," said Chase, as he shut House's door for him. Then, to Ali, he said, "Thanks for coming here with me, I just wanted to give him a hard time."

Ali quirked a brow. "But I thought we were hooking up for _real_, Robbie?"

Chase suddenly wished he hadn't shut House's door quite so quickly.

0.0.0

_**Scene VIII**__: So-So Obsessions_

**.0.**

Now at work, House was, surprise surprise, in Wilson's office once again.

Wilson stared at House, waiting for him to say something.

"So..." Wilson uttered.

House stared back at Wilson. "So...?"

"So..."

"So."

"So?"

"So-So."

"House, cut that out," sighed Wilson. "_So_, did you have 'fun' in jail? Again?"

House nodded. "Yeah, of course. I just wish the guys who were actually drunk would have stopped singing 'one-hundred bottles of beer on the wall' for at _least_ four minutes."

"So..." repeated Wilson, before he said, "Where's Chase now?"

House grunted. "Cuddy gave him the day off because she thinks I got him wasted. He's not even hungover because he probably snorted back a big fat line of Lorazepam."

Wilson looked at House oddly. "I don't mean to freak you out or anything, House, but your sudden obsession with Chase is sort of freaking _me_ out."

"He's annoying me," said House, as he paced about Wilson's office, "but I _am_ going to get him if it's the _last_ thing I do."

"...That... sounded relatively gay, House."

House smirked. "Bitch. I'm totally cool if Chase doesn't want to have sex with me, since I don't want to have sex with him, but I don't need him flaunting his sex-life in my face. You mark my words, James Wilson; I _will_ find a way to destroy him _and_ his rabid sex-life."

Wilson uttered another, "Mmm-hmm," before saying, "You want to turn him to the dark side of the force, I see. Well, if you really want to ruin his sex life, I guess the only thing left for you to do is make sure the dates he hooks up with turn out to be nightmares, right? That ought to make everyone happy," he said with sarcasm, adding another eye-roll to his gestures of mockery.

Like before, House began walking for the door.

"...Wait a second," said Wilson, following a few rapid eye blinks, "That... _wasn't_ serious advice."

"Oh I know that," replied House, sounding anything but serious, "I've already forgotten about this whole thing. In fact – it's out of my system. Now, I am going to go grab a Reuben sandwich with no pickles, and get back to thinking about more important things like the joys of love and life."

"Good to hear."

House left.

Wilson got up, ready to pay another visit to Cuddy.

0.0.0

_**Scene IX**__: The Sex Café_

**.0.**

When House entered the cafeteria, another surprise surprise, Chase was there.

Taub then sat down at the table with Chase, before Chase got up and moved to a booth, which didn't surprise House at all.

What also did not surprise House was that Chase had moved to a booth where Martha Masters was sitting, but then, House was greeted with a factual surprise when Masters did not _move_ from the booth.

Meanwhile, Foreman took a seat at the circular table that Taub was at, before the two began staring at Chase and Masters as they gossiped away about what was more than likely Chase's rabid dog sex life.

House took the operative solution to the dilemma, and approached Chase and Masters; stopping at the booth while remaining temporarily unnoticed.

"Thirteen really was one of the most interesting women I've ever had the privilege of meeting, but you, Dr. Masters, are an honor to know as well."

It seemed, at this moment, that House's presence was acknowledged. By Masters, at least. She looked up at House, and asked, "Can I borrow your cane? I left the stick I usually use to beat guys off with in my locker."

House wanted to laugh. "That sounded like something out of the Asian porno I watched on Rareflix last week."

"House..." Chase groaned again. "What do you want _now_?"

House shrugged ever so casually again. "Nothing. Nothing at all. I am going to walk away now, and mind my own business, because I am _that_ mature and _that_ in control of my impulses."

That said, House walked away.

"I _didn't_ like the sound of that..." muttered Chase.

"I actually agree with you on that one..." Masters muttered back.

0.0.0

_**Scene X**__: Mind Your Own Sex_

**.0.**

"House is going to set Chase up with a transvestite."

"Wilson... I'm getting tired of this."

Once again in Cuddy's office, sitting on the dean's couch, Wilson's head fell back against the couch's cushioning as another sigh of hopelessness emitted its way from between his lips.

"I was right before, wasn't I? I'm serious. House is going to find a way to set Chase up with a transvestite, or worse. Maybe a nun in cosplay, some eighty year-old woman, or even a crackwhore."

Cuddy frowned. "I know you're concerned with House's recent obsession with Chase, but quite frankly, I'm _more_ concerned about your recent obsession _with_ House's obsession with Chase."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Cuddy threw some files down to her desk in a careless fashion, before staring Wilson straight in the eyes.

"Go to Sam, and get laid. Forget about House for awhile. You know as well as I do that this sex-run of Chase's is only temporary, just like House's stupid game is. If you indulge House over this, it's only going to encourage him more, so the best action you can take in this case in the lack of one at all."

Wilson went ahead and stood up, but not before saying, "You're in some serious denial..."

"And about what, might I ask?"

"I have a bad feeling about this, and so do you. I don't know how the hell this is going to play out, but whatever the outcome, it's not going to be something we'll be laughing at later. It'll be something that has us... well, screaming loudly enough to shatter the windows and raise the dead or something."

Cuddy smirked. "Wilson, please get out of my office and get back to work. I'll deal with House in my way, and you can deal with him in yours, but I'm _not_ collaborating with you on how to deal with him again. That _always_ has a negative effect in the end."

So, with defeat, Wilson headed for the door, but not before adding, "You'll be sorry you didn't listen to me."

"Good_bye_, Dr. Wilson."

0.0.0

_**Scene XI**__: At Least it wasn't a Sex Shoppe_

**.0.**

This evening, Chase was at a local yogurt shoppe called Tutti Frutti which was conveniently located next to a flourishing Starbucks. Since his date from okcupid had wanted to meet him here, he figured the young lady was of the tasteful variety, and possibly a little on the young side. Just... hopefully not as young as Ali.

Then, a woman entered the yogurt shoppe, and took a seat across from Chase.

Chase's mouth fell open. "Uh... can I... help you with something?"

"You're Robert, right? I'm Gina. Your quickmatch, remember?"

Chase swallowed. "But your pictures..."

"Oh, those were taken years ago, I just hadn't updated my profile, but that message you sent me was just _so_ sexy..."

Chase swallowed again, hoping Gina wasn't going to swallow him up, too. She probably weighed a good, well... Chase didn't want to think about it. And what sexy message? She had been the one to send _him_ the sexy message, right...?

Chase smiled suddenly, and said, "Excuse me; I have to go kill someone."

But as soon as Chase stood up, he saw House standing outside the glass-framed door; waving at him.

Then, House entered the yogurt shoppe, and treated Chase and his date to a few pounds worth of coconut yogurt with rainbow sprinkles and peanut butter bits on top.

Even if he had made Chase pay.

0.0.0

_**Scene XII**__: Strike it up!_

**.0.**

The next evening, Chase had taken a little trip to Atlantic City. House would _not_ find him there, and Chase was _going_ to have some sex tonight, damnit... House was _not_ going to ruin his chances at some hot sex _again_. No way, no how.

In the casino, feeling safe as ever, Chase met with a date he had made _sure_ had not been fixed up to meet him by House. Amy was a nice woman, lithe, fit, and ready for sex; just like Chase liked his women for the moment.

After a few rounds of blackjack, they headed up to a hotel room.

Then, Amy went into the bathroom to change, while Chase waited on the king-sized bed. Yes... he was going to score in peace...

...Then, Amy came out of the bathroom, wearing a... black, leather mask of some sort, holding a ball-point whip, a spiky dog collar, but most disturbingly of all, a particular type of belt that Chase _wasn't_ about to get into...

"Holy shit..." whispered Chase as unadulterated shock overtook his form in its entirety.

Amy snapped the whip against the floor. "On your knees, little bitch!"

At that moment, the loud scream of '_House!_' echoed throughout the entire hotel.

0.0.0

_**Scene XIII**__: A Grave Sight at Wilson's Condo_

**.0.**

And the next evening...

Chase was feeling a little fearful... House was somehow managing to keep tabs on every move he made with his dates, or rather, keeping tabs on the dates Chase was hooking up with. At that moment, Chase figured he could fly to Bangkok and pick up a random woman and it would somehow be something orchestrated by House to keep him from having sex.

So, Chase had done the rational thing...

He had asked Wilson if he could use his apartment for the night to meet his date at. Chase had promised he would not have any hot sex in Wilson's apartment, as that was not proper, but at least he could meet his date in the _last_ place House would expect Chase to meet a date at.

And Wilson had _promised_ he would keep his mouth shut.

And to boot, Wilson had promised to keep House occupied by spending some time at House's apartment.

Surely Chase was in the clear for some sex now...

A knock on Wilson's condo door was heard, and wearing a very sexy, suitable, but slightly mismatched tux, Chase made way to answer the door.

Chase put on a sexy smile, and opened that door.

"Well hey there, honey. I'm Clarice."

Chase sighed. Things were going good...

"I'm Robert," replied Chase, "Would you like to come in for a quick glass of wine or something before we go out?"

The young woman nodded, and then, said, "Sure, just let me get my friends." She turned her head. "Okay guys, come on inside."

Chase quirked a brow. "Friends? You invited some girlfriends along?"

Then... a couple of guys appeared in the doorway.

Chase froze all over again.

Clarice nodded. "Yeah, your friend told me you were bisexual and into group sex."

"I..." stammered Chase, "I-I think I... You know what? I'm not feeling well all of a sudden. I think I'm coming down with something, but what worries me is that I think it's a mental sickness, and I should probably check-in somewhere and get some help. Now. Or some therapy. Now."

"Oh... well, can we still have the group sex first?"

One of the tall, buff guys appeared in Wilson's doorway. "Oooh man, that guy was _right_. He is a _pretty_ little thing. _Oooh_, yeah..."

Chase slammed the door, and then, had a go at the wine by himself. After three glasses, he called up House, but was only met with a stupid voicemail saying he had reached a hair salon that was under construction.

Then, Chase called Wilson, and was met with a regular voicemail of the sorts, but still, Wilson did not answer.

After that, Chase called Cuddy, and Cuddy did answer, but merely told him something in the way of, "I don't care about your sex life, and I'm sure someone out there's willing, so leave me alone because I'm _busy_."

She hung up, and at that moment, Chase knew she was probably in bed with House, which meant Wilson wasn't with House, and was more than likely drunk at House's apartment. Or, maybe more likely, House had gotten the truth out of Wilson after spiking his grape soda with Amobarbital.

Chase growled to himself. He was _going_ to have sex again, even if it was the death of him.

And if House kept this up, Chase's next lay could be the lay that had him lying in his _grave_.

0.0.0

_**Scene XIV**__: Angel of Death by Sex_

**.0.**

The following evening, which made this evening number four, Chase just _knew_ he couldn't go wrong...

So sue Chase. He had never been in to paying for sex – hell, that had been House's thing in the past – but Chase had hired an escort nevertheless, and to make things all the more odd, he opted to meet with her in a rather seedy and trashy motel of the sorts.

Okay... maybe Chase was starting to lose his mind... just a little... but for the love of God, House would _not_ be able to screw this up because it was insane. A sane person did not hire a fancy escort and invite her to some trashy downtown motel where the check-in guy didn't even check IDs, so Chase figured if he fought insane with insane, the two negatives would form a positive of sane.

And okay again... maybe Chase _was_ losing it... a lot, but... screw it. He was _going_ to have some hot sex. Tonight. Now.

As Chase entered the rather horrid motel that was something straight out of a teenage horror flick, he picked up a keycard from the front desk, and made it to room number 2B on the second story. His date would be waiting inside for him, accordingly.

With a shaky hand, Chase inserted the keycard into the slot, and when the light flashed green for go, Chase opened the door, and entered...

...to see a beautiful brunette with strawberry blond highlights lying on the bed in white lingerie.

Finally. _Finally_ Chase was going to have some hot sex once again. And there was _nothing_ House could do about it.

Chase entered the motel room, and shut the door behind him.

"Hey you," said the beautiful woman, "I've been waiting... a long time..."

"Really?" asked Chase, "But we agreed on nine o' clock, and it's... well, nine o' clock?"

"I know that. I meant I've been waiting a long time for my first time."

Hold up...

"What...?" Chase murmured.

The woman nodded. "Yeah. We're getting married, right?"

"...Huh?"

The pretty girl nodded. "Uh-huh. Your message said you were a wealthy bachelor looking for a mistress to settle down with. By the way, you brought the diamonds you promised me, right? Now let's make the sex quick, I want to elope so you can meet my family. My father says if I don't have some children soon, he's going to lose his lights."

Chase beat it like a bat out of hell.

Damnit. House had done it _again_, **just** to make sure Chase _wouldn't_ get to **do it**.

0.0.0

_**Scene XV**__: At Least it wasn't the Shortbus to School_

**.0.**

The next day at work, Chase avoided House at every possible moment. House insulted Chase and teased him plenty of times, but frankly, Chase did not give a damn. In fact, he was almost hoping House would fire him again, or punch him in jaw again to give him an excuse to quit or at least allow him to get another sympathy vote from Cuddy so he could take leave _with_ pay.

Among the comments Chase received that particular morning were...

"So, still not getting any lately?" Taub had asked.

"Sex isn't everything, you know," Foreman had said.

"I'm still not having sex with you," Masters had stated.

"If you can't outmaneuver House by now, you'll never have sex again," Nurse Brenda had commented.

"Have you considered sex therapy?" Cuddy had inquired with apathetic sarcasm.

"This is _exactly_ what ruined pretty much every relationship with a woman I ever had," Wilson had said with sympathy.

"Guess what? _I_ had _**sex**_ last night," House had boasted.

Chase picked up a cup of coffee, dumped it on House's head, and left the discussion room.

Also, the coffee had been hot. Not as hot as the sex Chase would have been having weren't it for House, but still, Chase wanted House to feel his pain.

So later that afternoon, after the team had quickly diagnosed a case of Crohn's Disease, Chase decided to seek the advice of the one person he had yet to seek advice from who _just_ might have the answers he needed...

_Lucas Douglas._

But why in the world Lucas had wanted to meet Chase in a _school bus_, Chase didn't know, but he supposed it didn't matter.

So in that school bus, Chase sat up front in one of the seats, while Lucas was taking snapshots of some guys having football practice. Chase decided to strike up the conversation.

"I don't know what to do."

Without even looking at Chase, Lucas said, "Well, you know, that's rather obvious and all, considering the fact that you're even here. By the way, this conversation is going to cost you."

"I don't really care right now," mumbled Chase. "My sex life is in jeopardy."

"O-kay, I really didn't need to know that, but since I'm being paid to hear this, go on and continue."

Chase sighed with exasperation. "Alright, but first, may I inquire what the hell we're doing in a school bus?"

"Some mother wants me to keep an eye on her son, that's all," replied Lucas.

"Oh. Why is that? Drugs or alcohol?"

"Nah, neither. She thinks he's having an affair with his assistant coach."

Chase's eyes shifted. "O... kay..."

Lucas snapped a few more pictures, and said, "So, get to the point. TBH, I'd rather not be within ten feet of anyone that has any connection to House right now, which, you know, sort of includes you, too, and it's not like you're hiring me to investigate anyone, so you fall into that forth type."

"What's the forth type?" inquired Chase.

"I actually have no idea, so that's why you're that forth type."

Chase frowned. "You're an ass."

"That just cost you one-hundred dollars, so do you want to get to the point, or set yourself back a few more hundred bucks?"

Chase decided to become a bit more adamant. "I want to make House's life a living _hell_, and I don't know how."

Lucas suddenly appeared interested, turning away from his camera. "Really?"

"Yes. I had a _great_ sex life going, until House decided to screw it up... and for _no_ reason at _all_ other than to screw with _me_."

Lucas shrugged. "Well, maybe if you don't want him to screw with _you_, you're going to have to screw with _him_."

"Could you elaborate a little more on that?"

"It's like... well, let's see, how do I put this..." Lucas said, contemplating to himself. "I know you were married before, I know you've been on House's team the longest, and I know you've always been House's favorite team member to screw with. He also lets you get away with things that, well, he usually wouldn't let other people get away with; not even Wilson," he insisted, before continuing. "All that said, when you started having hot sex, even though he was having hot sex, too, it just... got to him somehow. Which is strange. Most people would probably say that he wanted to screw with your happiness because you were the happiest person he knew at the moment, but FYI, I don't think that's the case."

Seeming relatively confused, Chase asked, "Then what _is_ the case?"

"That he has a thing for you."

Chase stood up. "Nice talking to you, I have to go now."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Sit down. By leaving, you're _only_ admitting to yourself that you believe in what I just said."

Unfortunately, that made sense to Chase, so he sat back down.

"So, let's get this straight," said Lucas, and he looked at Chase, "Or, should I say, not so straight. You really want House to stop screwing with you? Like I said, you are going to have to screw with him. Wilson was always too nice to try the freakier approach minus the stupid pointless comebacks, but there's something about you that gives me this... I don't know, creepy vibe?"

"What?"

"Yeah, you give me the creeps. Like, you strike me as this guy who would bring a bomb to work in the form of a Coke can just so you could prove yourself to House how much you are like him. Foreman has that going on too, but he's smarter than you are, and less creepy," stated Lucas, shrugging one of his shoulders. "It's like that time House faked that he had cancer, and you gave him the hug and everything while your eyes welled with tears."

Chase's jaw dropped. "How the _hell_ do you know about that?"

Again, Lucas shrugged. "It's my job. I'm good at everything about it, except disguises sometimes. Anyway, like I said, you want House to stop freaking you out, you are gonna have to freak _him_ out. You can't just... you know, keep avoiding him, or he's just going to keep screwing with you. You're going to have to get in his face, and, like I said, freak him the heck out."

Chase sighed. "I've punched the guy in the jaw, and he only took up for me and even _congratulated_ me for it."

Lucas formed a sarcastic expression. "Do I need to take a few steps back here, or are you following me at all?"

"Quite frankly, I think you're a little nuts."

"Nah, I'm pretty sane, just quirky. You, on the other hand, are one of those smart stupid people. By the way, you're up to eight-hundred dollars, now."

"This is a bunch of bull," complained Chase. "So you're saying if I want to have sex again, all I have to do is freak House out? Do you know how hard that is? _Nothing_ freaks House out. In the past, I could have swiped his Vicodin to get the job done, but he's off that stuff now so next to shooting him I don't know how else I could freak him out."

Lucas sighed. "Okay, I didn't want to have to get blunt with you, but you're... kinda dumb when it comes to House, which sucks considering how long you've known him, but I pity you there, so I'm going to spell it out for you. The one thing that has _always_ freaked House out more than anything is _relationship intimacy_, so if you want to freak House out – and I mean really, _really_ freak him out – you are going to have to get _intimate_ with him."

Chase was... yeah... "Lucas... pardon my French, but that is just as fucked up as it is insane. That approach would not only strip me of what little dignity I have left at this point, but it would insult me as a moral human being and probably land me in a mental institution or, I hate to say, down the same road my mother chose to take."

"Oh, the alcohol thing. Sorry about that."

Chase grunted. "I see you know about that, too. Hell, what _don't_ you know?"

"Well, I never was too good with deciphering the difference between Coke and Pepsi."

"Really?"

"No, that was a joke."

"So is this conversation," replied Chase, his annoyance clear.

Lucas pulled another eye roll, and turned in the driver's seat of the bus; facing the disgruntled doctor once again. "Look. You came to me for advice, and I gave it to you. You're either going to have to attack House where it hurts, or you're probably _never_ going to score again. Also, I'd say you're already pretty short on dignity, that a moral human being wouldn't murder their patients, and that you are going to end up committed anyway if you remain celibate for the rest of your life. Surely you were worried about that _last_ one at _one_ point before."

Again, Chase stood up. "Whatever. Thanks for the talk, Lucas. I'll send you the cash in the mail after I drop by the ATM on my way home, even as big of a waste as this whole meeting was. And 'FYI', I still think you're very much on the weird side and the second I step off the bus I am going to be thinking 'WTFWT'. 'LOL', Goodbye."

"LMAO. C-U, Chase," replied Lucas, "And good luck reestablishing your sex life. Just remember... you can't hit a home run and make it to home base _without_ running past first base..."

It took Chase a moment to translate the double meaning behind Lucas's words, but sadly enough, he did process them.

Chase exited the school bus, deciding he would go home, and try to sleep through the night without having nightmares about his conversation with the crazy P.I..

And that would be _quite_ the challenge.

0.0.0

_**Scene XVI**__: Chase's Worst Nightmare_

**.0.**

_Chase was surrounded by bright light, and hundreds, maybe even thousands of beautiful women..._

"_Hey sexy thing..." one of the women whispered, stroking Chase's cheek._

_Then another grabbed him from behind, and said, "Wanna get busy?"_

_Chase wasn't only going to have a threesome this time, he was going to have like... a thousandsome. That wasn't a word, but it had just been added to Chase's sexual dictionary._

_There were beautiful women everywhere – and hell, even Thirteen and Masters were there!_

_But then..._

_He appeared..._

_**It**__ appeared._

"_Sorry girls, Chase __**can't**__ have sex anymore."_

_All the women vanished, and the light faded into darkness, before the very fires of hell surrounded Chase._

_Then, House began laughing evilly._

"_No more hot sex for you, Chase... Mwahaha. You're in hell with me, now."_

_Then... Cameron appeared, out of nowhere, walked up to House, and started making out with him._

_After a steaming kissing session with Chase's ex-wife, House broke away from the kiss, looked back at Chase, and said, "Told you that you were in hell."_

_Then Rowan Chase appeared, and said something to Chase about how disappointed he was that Chase was __**never going to score again**__._

_Then, House laughed again, before a pair of devil-like wings sprouted from his back and flames engulfed the entire premises as the huge conflagration overtook Chase's form, too._

Chase shot up in bed, breathing heavily.

That had been the _worst_ nightmare of his **life**.

Chase threw the covers back, and got out of bed.

"That is IT. This morning, House is going to get a taste of hell from ME!"

0.0.0

_**Scene XVII**__: Everyone Scores but House_

**.0.**

Ah, another typical day...

House was there, Foreman was there, Taub was there, and Masters was there, and as usual, Chase was running late.

"Do you think he's getting any again yet?" asked Taub, "I know he hasn't been for a few days. It's showing."

"I think it serves him right," said Masters as she nodded her head to a degree, "He needs to get his head back on the job and off the sex."

"And I am sick of talking about Chase's sex life," added Foreman while he fiddled with the pencil in his hands, "I think we've all been talking about that _more_ than we have been talking about things of _actual_ importance for the past few days."

House sniggered. "Doesn't matter. Chase _won't_ be having random hot sex _any_more..."

Then, Chase appeared in the doorway. All eyes fell upon him, but no one said anything.

However, House continued to smile that evil little smile of his.

And then, with an expressionless expression, Chase marched on up to House, grabbed his face with both hands, and crushed his lips against House's.

The world didn't end at that moment, but everyone within the room was wondering if the next ice-age had hit, because everyone had frozen to the point where they weren't even able to blink.

In fact, hell itself had frozen over.

Chase pulled away from House, and patted him on the cheek lightly with one hand. Then, he said, "There. If you don't love me, you'll _stop_ interfering with my sex life. Otherwise, I am going to assume _you_ want to have sex with _me_, and _so_ is the _entire_ hospital, _and_ Cuddy. Anyway, I think I'll take the day off. Are you going to try and stop me?"

...House... said nothing.

Chase smiled arrogantly. "That is what I thought. Now, I'm going to go have sex. Goodbye."

Chase left.

Foreman, Taub, and Masters stared at House, appearing just as freaked as he appeared to be.

Without word, House grabbed his coat, and headed out the door, too.

Taub raised his hand. "Does this mean we all get to leave early?"

Though House was out of range by the time Taub had made his inquiry, Foreman answered the question nonetheless.

"Yeah... I... think so..." Foreman muttered. "In fact, I think I may require some personal time off and some counseling after witnessing that. Anyway, I'm going home to take a Valium..."

Masters shrugged. "Guess Chase does have some balls after all. But, yes, I guess this means I can take the day off as well."

Then, Taub decided to make another statement. "I take back what I said about Lucas. I think that was the most insane thing I've seen since I started working here."

The three co-workers stood, left the room, and all went their separate ways for the day.

Foreman didn't take a Valium, but he did score in a different sense.

Taub went home, and after telling Rachel the story of House's humiliation and lying about how he had put Chase up to it, he scored as well.

Masters, surely enough, scored too, but her methods remained a mystery...

0.0.0

_**Scene XVIII**__: So-So Bitch_

**.0.**

Now at Wilson's condo, House was sitting on the couch next to his best-friend, beer in hand, and blank expression on his face.

"So..." began Wilson.

"So..." muttered House.

"So?"

"So..."

"_So_... how was the kiss?"

"I'm going to kill him..." remarked House in an emotionless voice; one that lacked his usual snark.

"Still... how was the kiss?"

House lazily turned his head to face Wilson, looking like a zombie. "Bitch."

"After today, I think you just became Chase's bitch, House."

"I'm going out to get drunk."

"Alright."

Wilson would accompany House; after all, it was his duty as a friend to make sure House didn't fall off a barstool or end up in the drunk tank again, but if House had enough to drink, maybe he would go into detail about that kiss.

0.0.0

_**Scene XIX**__: Turning the Tables (Way to Play up the Todaygay)_

**.0.**

Chase sighed with utmost happiness. He had humiliated House, and finally, _finally_, he had scored; _again_...

_Three_ times, with _three_ different hotties.

Things were looking up again.

Then, however, a knock on his door was heard.

Another hottie already? G'_reat!_

Whistling to himself, Chase made his way to the front door, and opened it.

There was a hottie at his door, just not a hottie he had expected.

For there, in the doorway, stood none other than Lisa Cuddy.

A temporary silence set in, before out of nowhere, Cuddy slapped Chase across the face.

Following another temporary silence, Chase shakily asked, "W-What was that for?"

"That was for getting House to declare his undying love for you in front of Wilson and everyone _else_ at the damned bar he went to! I hope you're satisfied with yourself. Also, I'm _still_ not having sex with you, especially _not_ a threesome." She leered. "I understand why you did what you did, but don't you _ever_ do it again, or I _will_ have your ass in a _very_ non-sexual way."

Cuddy turned, and stomped off.

But oh well... give it a few days, and everyone would forget all about what had happened, right?

And Chase was free to score again – and _that_ was the _important_ thing, right?

And the following week, Chase got _exactly_ what he had wanted.

House avoided Chase every chance he could, stayed out of his way, and even agreed with his opinions regarding possible diagnoses every time Chase threw _out_ an opinion – even when it was a _ridiculous_ one that made no sense at all.

Lucas had known his stuff _after_ all...

Too bad Chase didn't know what he was in for the next time he was alone in the locker room with House.

_Turned_ out House had known his stuff _after_ all, too.

And _turned_ out the tables had been _turned_ again.

Poor Chase had been pinned like a poster boy.

"This _never_ happened, and Robert..." said House, before he made way to exit the locker room, "Tomorrow, just tell yourself you were only a yestergay _yesterday_."

"..."

Oh well...

Though some things _were_ better left unsaid, that _didn't_ always make them better left forgotten. So... did Chase...

...Score?

Score...

_Sigh_.

_**-End...**_

0.0.0

**A/N:** ...I'm sorry for this, this was crazy and I know it, but it was sort of fun to write...

Happy Thanksgiving to you all, and thanks for reading.

No flames, please...?

On the other hand, please _do _review if something nice can be said. :);


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